teresa sets her cap
by clairebare
Summary: finally she would make her move.
1. Chapter 1

1

"Jane?" I hold out a fistful of little paper perfume testers.

There must be fifty of them.

"Which of these do you like?"

He looks surprised at the question.

He sniffs each carefully.

"I like fourteen Lisbon. Tuberose, violet and iris but underneath, there's something very dirty going on."

"Dirty," I say.

"Yes. Filthy dirty, in the nicest way possible.

Is this part of a case, Lisbon?"

"Sort of," I say.

2

I have decided to go after Jane.

To rope him and tie him.

To roll him and pat him and mark him with a "T."

And put him in the oven for baby and me.

Twelve years and I've finally grown a pair.

What's the worst that can happen?

He'll reject me and I'll wind up feeling…rejected?

Been there. Done that.

Actually.

Am there. Am doing that.

It's enough already.


	2. Chapter 2

1

He's sleeping.

I run my eyes over the juicy body languidly arranged on the leather sofa.

Kim steals an eyeful as she passes through the bullpen.

Hey! Shoo! Get off my property, you varmint!

Almost as if she hears my inner bark, she skulks off.

OK, she's gone. Let's see what the curls are up to today.

For the most part they are being good curls and ringlets and pointing in the same direction but one wayward baby blonde has decided to venture south toward forehead territory.

Time to make my move.

I grab a stack of files and stride past Jane dipping low and blowing hard as I near his head.

"Whoooosh. Nice day we're having, isn't it, Jane?"

The errant ringlet scoots back to its assigned spot between the golden blond curl and the dark blond lock."

"Wha…what?" he says waking and rubbing his eyes.

"What?" I say.

"Uh…hi Lisbon." He turns over and goes back to sleep.

Cho's watching me.

2

I've been monitoring and recording curl position for more than a decade.

I have notebooks.

This is the first time I have influenced those findings.


	3. Chapter 3

1

Jane carries his tea into the bullpen to find me lying on his couch.

"Lisbon?" He's perturbed.

"Problem?" I flash him the high beams. Both eyes, right in his face.

Defiant Lisbon. That sets him back on his heels.

"Uh…no," he says and sits carefully down on the other end.

2

Jane is lying on the couch.

He watches through narrow blue-green eyes as I direct the deliverymen carrying in the matching leather ottoman I purchased on line.

"Put it down in front of the couch over on the right. A little more. A little more. OK, now close the gap. You got it. You got it."

"Guys, it's been a pleasure." I tip them handsomely.

I ease myself down on the end of the couch near Jane's feet and swing my legs up on the ottoman.

"What?" I say to him.

He closes his eyes.

We both settle in for the afternoon.

3

I open one eye.

Curious Kim scopes us out from the other side of the bullpen.

She quietly and steadily approaches.

She's almost upon us.

I flash her the high beams.

She backs off.

Yeah. And stay out.


	4. Chapter 4

1

I spread my bunch of perfume samples out on my kitchen table.

I consult my notes on them.

Hmm. Jane's selection, number fourteen is Fleurissimo, a blend of tuberose, Bulgarian rose, violet and iris.

Jane's nose is impeccable.

Hell, every part of Jane is impeccable.

He claims that beneath the flower smell there's something dirty. Something filthy dirty.

I google the perfume.

Top note - Bergamot. No wonder Jane liked it. That's the flavoring in Earl Grey tea.

So familiar to him, he didn't even remark on it.

The middle notes are the flowers.

Then there's the base note usually consisting of animalic or musk notes. Often these notes are not perceptible in the scent even after twenty-four hours.

That sounds like Jane.

He got the imperceptible animal part on the one.

The base note to the perfume is…ambergris.

Ambergris is produced in the digestive system of sperm whales and excreted into the sea where it floats for many years losing its marine, fecal odor and acquiring a sweet, earthy scent.

Guess that qualifies as filthy dirty.

Its effect serves more to alter and enhance the scent of other substances rather than to contribute to the perfume itself.

Very rare. Very expensive. It's generally obtained when it washes up on beaches. Outlawed in this country. Most perfumers substitute the synthetic Ambrox.

Filthy dirty…yet possibly useful.

2

For the next few days, I wear Fleurissimo into which I've titrated an additional .015 ml. of Ambrox.

Jane wakes and sits bolt upright whenever I enter the bullpen.

He looks around, scratches his head and tries to fall back asleep.

He tosses and turns until I leave.

This is so entertaining.

Scent is a very individual thing.

Fleurissimo Extreme, as I call it, seems to have no effect on Abbott or Wylie.

But Cho has started smiling at me.


	5. Chapter 5

1

Jane and I have a parakeet, Fabian.

He and Jane have not yet met.

I have taught Fabian to say, "Pretty boy" and "Are you single?"

Fabian seems to like his antique cage hanging on its stand behind the leather couch at the FBI.

I fill his cup with Oats 'n Groats and leave him some Fiji water.

So long, Fabian.

Cho and I have to go to New Orleans for a few days.

2

Jane now subscribes to Elle Décor, House Beautiful, World of Interiors, Maison Francais, Elle Decoration, Bon Appetit and Food and Wine.

He should be receiving his first issues while I'm here in New Orleans.

Hope he enjoys them.

3

By now, Jane has received the six pairs of Italian linen pajamas I ordered for him.

I have always liked a pair of fine pajamas on a man.

And I hope he will have acquired the habit of wearing them by the time we meet again.


	6. Chapter 6

1

Back from New Orleans.

I stroll off the elevator at the FBI.

"Lisbon! Lisbon!"

The sound of my name pierces the silent corridor.

I pull my gun and run.

Sounds like Jane.

In distress.

His voice is strained; garbled.

I skid into the bullpen.

Empty.

No one there but Fabian.

2

Jane is in New York with Fischer.

I lounge on the couch with my feet on the ottoman.

Cho gets up from his desk.

His eyes sweep over the couch, the ottoman and then, Fabian.

Fabian says, "Meh."

Cho shakes his head and walks away.


	7. Chapter 7

1

Jane is back from New York.

I come in to find him asleep on the couch.

Fabian is in his cage wailing on a poppy bagel from Murray's on Sixth Avenue.

Jane likes the people at Murray's because they refuse to toast.

I like the people at Murray's because they're so Jane-like.

On my desk is a poppy bagel.

Next to it is a new toaster oven.

2

I titrate an additional .015 ml. of Ambrox into my Fleurissimo Extreme.

3

I enter the bullpen.

Jane wakes up instantly.

He looks at me, begins panting, and dives into the men's room.

Too much.


	8. Chapter 8

Late night.

I'm padding back to the bullpen after spending all day digging through files in the conference room.

Time to pack up my stuff and go home.

The entire floor is emptied out.

Except for curious Kim who's circling my desk.

She's transfixed by a cut glass bottle with a stopper perched on top of a pile of papers.

Where'd that come from? It's very pretty.

I drop out of sight and watch Kim.

She's like a crow thinking, "Ooh, a shiny thing."

She looks around.

Makes sure the coast is clear.

She darts forward, grasps the bottle, yanks out the stopper and takes a whiff.

"Oh god!" she cries.

Her body jerks convulsively like she stepped on a live wire.

"Oh god oh god oh god!"

She falls flat on her back.

Fabian is squawking.

She lies there moaning and breathing hard.

After a few seconds, she gets up. She looks embarrassed.

She carefully puts the stopper back in the bottle and then puts the bottle back on the desk.

She dusts herself off and totters back to her office.

Pretty clear what this means.

Jane's making perfume.


	9. Chapter 9

1

Kim has gone back to her office probably to smoke a cigarette.

I pull on rubber gloves and approach the bottle Jane left on my desk with great trepidation.

I hold my breath.

I grab the bottle with the set of tongs I keep in my desk drawer next to my hammer.

I insert it into an evidence bag and seal it.

This is dangerous stuff.

I'd better not sniff it.

2

I take it home and sniff it a few times.

OK. Six times.

Whoa. Jane is wicked.

Quite the talented nose he has.

This worked way better than turtlenecks. On Kim too.

I guess I'd better lay off wearing Fleurissimo Extreme unless I want him dabbing on Janeissimo and making me embarrass myself in the middle of the bullpen whenever he walks by.

But I have his attention.

The game is afoot.

3

I stroll into the bullpen the next morning.

The ottoman is gone.

And there's something different about the leather couch.


	10. Chapter 10

1

What's different about the couch?

I observe it all day.

Jane comes and goes.

The couch looks the same yet not.

It's late. People are heading home for the night.

I get up and circle the couch a few times examining it from every angle.

Curious Kim shadows me for a round or two.

I turn and stamp my foot.

She runs wee-wee-wee-wee all the way home. Or at least back to her office.

That's what she gets for sampling my Janeissimo.

2

I bend down and peer under the couch.

There's a small leather loop under the front of the seat that I've never noticed.

I tug on it.

The lower part of the couch slides forward.

I keep backing up and pulling the loop.

Holy shit.

This isn't Jane's couch. This is the sleeper version of Jane's couch.

This could have major implications.

I hear footsteps behind me.

Running. Barefoot.

"Heads up, Lisbon!"

Jane cartwheels over my head and lands on the queen-size bed.

He's wearing a pair of the linen pj's I sent him.

He clambers under the covers and buries his curly head in the pillow.

No way, Goldilocks. That's my side of the bed.

I jump on top of him and wrestle him over to the other side. His side.

I push his head into the other pillow and hold it there.

He wriggles out of my clutches and goes back to my side.

I grab him by the hair and give him the high beams.

That convinces him.

He scoots back over to where he belongs, closes his eyes and lies there obediently with a half smile on his face.

Much better.

I yank off my boots and get under the covers.

We lie quietly. Our heads are touching.

I hear footsteps. Running.

I open my eyes.

Kim vaults toward the sofa bed.

I spritz her with the spray bottle I always keep with me.

She screeches and skitters away across the top of Cho's desk and tears out of the bullpen.

Fabian sings:

"Why do birds suddenly appear

Every time you are near?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you."


End file.
